Alone in the Dark
by Sora-M-Jigen
Summary: Oneshot. Tony's panic attacks have gotten worse as of late.


Avengers Tower housed the iconic heroes who saved New York from Loki's wrath. Everyone had their own custom bedrooms with tons of other rooms like offices, labs, gyms, and many others. Mr. Stark spared no expense in making sure everyone was comfortable with their surroundings, to which they were grateful for.

For the longest time, had been comfortable. Originally it was him, his machines, his suits, Jarvis, and Pepper at times. It was a life that could sometimes be lonely, but he would easily remedy that with parties, booze, or working. He was considerably content with himself despite depression at times, but those could easily be dealt with.

When he was offered to join Nick Fury's boy band (aka S.H.I.E.L.D.) he declined with the notion that they would use his work for their own use. His work was like his child – he could not stand to see it fall into the wrong, uncontrollable hands and would fight with everything in his being just to get it back. Then in flew reindeer games with his cunning scheme to dominate the world with the Chitauri and despite his wishes to not join S.H. .D., he found himself falling into their hands. Raising his guard and his intellectual wit, he knew he could play the superhero in all this. The genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist, superhero; it had a nice ring to his resume. Yet it wasn't enough for the group who had sacrificed everything, gone the extra mile, and did every single in their power for justice. The only miles Tony went to was in his work, which while that was a great technological advance, it meant nothing. Yet everything changed when he redirected the nuke into the Chitauri headquarters.

To this day, the vision of space haunted Tony's mind. The endless void, swallowing him and the one thing that he believed would protect him in an unfathomable darkness. The sight of the starry unknown and its aliens, exploding into dust made him believe he could die alongside them. His suit even surrendered to the quietness of death, although Tony knew it wasn't built for space travel. Space was cold, he never imagined it was this cold, but he felt the creeping cold slowly slither in. He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck and shiver his bones, rattling his heart. Through his eye slits, he watched the fire engulf the craft and its minions. Tony contemplated the possibilities of dying by the unforgiving, cold space or the sudden brush of the explosion's fire. With closed eyes, he accepted his fate and allowed his soul to be free from his body.

There was darkness in front of his eyes and behind his eyes, but this time he knew he wouldn't open them again. It was as though someone had thrown a shadowy veil over his eyes and he couldn't tear it away. Eyes blinded by this phantom veil, he saw every single thing that happened in his life. His father's neglect, his mother's kindness, his lonely nights with no one else but Jarvis, the days he met Pepper, the days he fell in love with her, Natasha Romanov entering his life, Nick Fury introducing the Avengers initiative to him, finding someone who spoke his language in the lab, meeting the resurrected man that his father loved more than him, and everything else that followed. What tore him apart the most though was Pepper. She didn't answer her phone, she didn't get to hear him say his final thoughts to her. It was a momentary crushing of the soul, knowing that he would never see Pepper or anyone else again. Knowing that everything would go to her and she would be financially secure in her many days to come, but believing the heart aching truth that she would find someone else, someone better.

The veil was lifted when the Hulk roared in a final attempt to jump start Tony. It was a miracle he succeeded and even more so a miracle that Tony was alive. To this day, he was quietly in debt to his science brethren and loved him like a sibling.

Everyone was born to die, Tony knew this. His father died, his mother died, people on the planet died; it was a natural occurrence and yet it shook him to the bone. The very thought of him dying was enough to haunt him whenever the lonely hours settled in, but this, this took everything to a whole new level. Since "New York" or the "incident" (what he called it), he knew he hadn't been the same. Some nights he was plagued with nightmares from his descent into death's dark void. These dreams would make him jolt up in bed, gasping and searching for air, trying to find a remedy to calm himself, and maybe then, just maybe, fall back to sleep. But sleep never returned to and Tony's eyes were greeted with the dawn and a shot of vodka in the morning. Whenever anyone would see him awake at such an early time, he would merely brush it off, saying that he was working in the lab.

Tony was able to hide his panic attacks well and so far the only one who knew about them was Pepper. Pepper was usually supportive and often tried to find remedies for his attacks or calm him down. He absolutely and utterly refused a therapist, imagining the situation would turn into a Freudian analysis. Plus Banner was his therapist, to an extent. Banner only knew part of the story and fell asleep just before the panic attack segment began. Banner and Stark had grown close as science brothers, always messing around in the lab to improve Tony's technology and to experiment with various metals, substances, and other things that no one could wrap their heads around. It made Pepper smile to see that Tony was doing more than just playing with his gear or drowning himself in the luxuries of parties. Yet his anxiety attacks still worried her and often, she would check up on him, or have Jarvis do so. From what Jarvis had seen, there were no traces of panic attacks.

But as of late, they had started up again and were more powerful than before. Now Tony wouldn't sleep at all due to the endless thoughts running through his head. Instead, he paced his bedroom or found himself sulking down to the lab to work on another suit. He was thankful no one was up at this time of the night as he brushed his fingers over the main interface and happened to notice the date.

April 27th.

Furrowing his brow, Tony scrolled through his calendar and suddenly it clicked. It was exactly a week away from when the "incident" occurred. His hands trembled as he quickly reached for a chair behind him.

"Are you all right, sir?" Jarvis questioned

"Yeah, fine, Jarvis," Tony spoke hurriedly and took a seat.

"My systems detect an increase in blood pressure and –"

"I'm fine, Jarvis!"

Tony placed his head between his legs, breathing deeply to clear his mind. This had worked before, but he couldn't stop himself from shaking like a tree leaf. In his mind the dark void emerged and from it spots of stars and fire broke out. His breath hitched as he felt the weight of the galaxy pressing down on his shoulders and back. Pangs of pain rained down in comets on his chest, each strike more painful than the last as Tony grit his teeth.

While he believed nothing catastrophic would happen on the anniversary, it was the mere idea of what had happened on that day that troubled him. Though he imagined Pepper would soon bring him a report from the mayor who would want to commemorate the event with a celebration or something of that nature. Tony knew he have to do something to control and conceal his panic attacks should they arise. But how, he didn't know. The remedies Pepper had recommended him would only take him so far.

"Sir-"

"Jarvis, not now!"

"I should inform you that has entered the lab."

"Tony?"

Tension cut through the lab as Bruce watched his friend whimper and twitch at some transparent attacker. Eyes widening , he cautiously neared him like a caged beast trying to escape its prison. From afar, his eyes analyzed Tony's behavior and relaxed, knowing exactly what to do.

"Jarvis," Bruce spoke calmly.

"Put on something soothing in this room only. Do you have Mozart's Lullaby?"

"Yes I do, sir."

Without another word, soft piano music emanated from the speakers. Notes wove their way into Tony's ears and lifted the weight of the stars off his shoulders, tossing it into some abyssal unknown. Shivering still from the attack, Tony did not move, but rather bit his lower lip fiercely to dull any other pain and to cope with the fact that one of his closest of friends was seeing him like this. Never did he want anyone to see him like this other than Pepper because she knew how to deal with his monsters. Bruce had his own demons to tackle with; he didn't need to bear witness to what Tony endured.

"W-what are you doing up early?"

Tony asked, his quivering voice trying to regain some normalcy. Gritting his teeth, he mentally cursed himself as his chest grew tight and his breathing hitched once more.

"Natasha told me about morning meditation. Said it'd help wake me up and calm down the Big Guy."

Slowly approaching Tony, he didn't want to surprise him or anything of that nature. Kneeling down, Bruce stared into Tony's pain ridden eyes and saw the collapse of a man he believed to be in control. New York changed that though and Bruce couldn't blame him. He knew the nature of panic attacks and death and how it was a formidable foe that everyone had to face sooner or later. Bruce too had his own brush with death before the Big Guy intervened and he supposed that it was good for him to do so. Yet dealing with his monster every day was no easy task and everyone knew that and was willing to help at any costs, despite his need to be alone sometimes. Then there was Tony who understood the raging beast in the man because he had studied it, fanboyed over it, and pressed his buttons to see how the Big Guy worked. If there was anyone else who could understand the pain of housing a monster inside, it was Tony.

"Tony, look at me. We're going to count from 10 to 1-"

"Bruce, don't turn this into a therapy session-"

"Tony, you need help. Let me help you. We can get through this."

"I'm fine, Bruce."

"You're not fine, Tony."

"I can do this by myself damnit! I've done shit on my own so why not this?!"

Bruce hadn't known much about Tony other than the fact that he was always in control and knew how to handle things. He had handled things well (or so it seemed) his entire life until Pepper came along to help him. He wasn't sure how Tony enjoyed the idea of having an assistant to help him with Stark Industries, but from what he could tell, the two worked very well together. Tony's lone wolf attitude seemed to stick with him through New York and Bruce hypothesized that it was something he had inherited at some point in his life. It wasn't to shake off or so it seemed as Bruce wondered how he could even obtain such a personality. Tony had people to help him all his life – or was he sick of being helped and wanted to be left alone to fend for himself?

Watching the shivering man before him who gripped his chest roughly, Bruce searched his brain for other methods to help with the situation.

"What do you need, Tony?"

Bruce asked softly, causing Tony to stare at him. There was anger and confusion furiously dancing in his eyes, wanting Bruce to leave him be, why he was still here, and wishing the panic attack would cease. But knowing how much Bruce cared deeply about helping others, he allowed him to play doctor in getting him the medication he believed he needed.

"Get…get me a shot of vodka. That usually calms me."

If Tony had pills, Bruce figured he would have requested them. But instead, he requested vodka. Not surprising. He wondered how long Tony used that as his crutch and sighed to himself. Though Bruce began to wonder if this panic attack was merely based on New York or a culmination of everything in Tony's life and for once, not being in control of a situation. Tony knew though he could control the nuke, guide it to its proper destination, but what happened afterwards he could not control or so Bruce thought to himself. Weighing the situation in his head, Bruce knew alcohol couldn't be the constant answer because sooner or later Tony would crash. He couldn't let Tony crash and yet, he couldn't let him suffer through this panic attack. But Tony had had these panic attacks for what seemed like a good while so he knew how to cope. As much as he didn't trust vodka being a cure-all, Bruce knew he had no choice.

Making his way over to the mini bar Tony had in the lab (it didn't surprise Bruce that Tony had one of those in the lab), Bruce took a shotglass and poured a little bit of Grey Goose. He wasn't one for drinking so he only poured what he believed Tony should have. Not much, not a lot, but just in the middle; just enough to calm him down or so he believed.

"Bruce-"

"Please, Tony. Let me help you."

From across the room the two locked eyes, Tony knew the man meant well and that he had been studying medicine and science for years. He saw his eyes plead for Tony to let someone help him, just this once. Tony was hardheaded and stubborn, always believing to be a lone wolf, and that was destined way for him. New York had altered some of that attitude though and Tony would accept help on most things, but never his health. He believed it was his body, so he knew what could remedy it (usually alcohol), but for once he began to believe otherwise. Maybe Bruce did have the right way of helping him, Tony had trusted him. The uncertainty settled in his stomach like a greasy burger and he couldn't shake it off.

"I promise I won't tell," Bruce spoke up again as he placed the shotglass beside Tony.

Grabbing a chair, Bruce sat across from Tony as both of them knew that Banner wasn't leaving the lab any time soon.

"Fine."

The uncertainty faded as Tony threw all his trust into Bruce's methods and hoped the doctor could cure him. It was a rarity he trusted anyone with his health and knew that this would possibly be the first time since the shrapnel. Chugging his vodka, Tony felt his nerves ease some. The panging in his chest was minimal and he didn't shake as much, but Bruce knew he wasn't leaving him like that. Locking his kind eyes with Tony's chocolate orbs, he kept his voice gentle and clear.

"We're going to count from 10 to 1. Between every number, we're going to take a deep breath. Calm our minds."

"What is this, yoga? Cause I don't do downward dog."

Silence stood between the two as Bruce looked at him with a rather stern, but pleading look to which Tony sighed and complied. Beginning their countdown, Tony did as Bruce instructed. With every breath, the chest pains were lifted and Tony's body seemed to stop trembling. Even Tony's face seemed to relax, as though the panic was slipping into the confines of the lab where nothing could harm him. With every fragment of tranquility that drew into Tony's frame, Bruce encouraged him and praised him for his effort. Tony accepted those comments as though they were the press rewarding him for the creation of something new and wonderful. A small smile curled up on his face, like a content cat purring. When they hit 'one', Tony had completely calmed. The beast returning to its cage and locking itself in for God only knew how long. Slowly opening his eyes, he was met with Bruce's gentle smile and eyes.

"You did it, Tony. I'm proud of you, good job."

Those words struck him like fingers on a guitar and he felt their effect ripple down his spine and in his mind. Tony couldn't recall the last time someone had said they were proud of him. He knew fathers always told their sons that they were proud of them, but now that Tony thought about it, he couldn't remember his father saying that to him at all. The words profoundly stuck out in his brain, rising high above his caged panic attack monster, and shining brightly like a Las Vegas sign. Their very meaning and syllables embedded themselves into his memory and rewarded him in a way that no one else had ever done so before.

"You wanna go meditate before we get started?"

Snapping him out of his thoughts, his eyes once again met with Bruce's. In that moment Tony felt confirmation that everything would be all right and that his bond with Bruce blossomed like roses. Not only did Tony know how to calm the Big Guy, but now Bruce knew how to ease the monsters in Tony's head. They were even now and in a way, they completed each other.

"Y-yeah. Sure."

Rising from their chairs, Tony silenced the music as he looked at Bruce. He knew he owed him big from New York. It was a simple, vicious roar, but it brought him back to life. Tony knew he could never fulfill that debt and that he would do anything for Bruce. The man had not only saved him once, but twice now. Once from death and again from himself.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."


End file.
